


Hey There, George

by shutupimnotobsessed



Series: hurting and healing [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fanfiction, Fluff and Angst, Food Issues, Gay, M/M, References to Depression, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:14:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29743437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupimnotobsessed/pseuds/shutupimnotobsessed
Summary: the fight costed him his love, his everything. He couldn't turn back time; he couldn't get George back.right?--SEQUEL TO BRUISES SO READ MY FIRST STORY FIRST!!----very loosely based off of the song Hey There Delilah--
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: hurting and healing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186553
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. a thousand miles

(TW mentions of vomit and food struggles)

Clay was a master of waiting at this point.

He had dreams of George every single night for months right after George left. They always managed to be an alternate reality where George left, but not for the same reason he did in real life. They always tried to make long distance work in the dreams, seeing as in them George had gone away to college to become a doctor. They made phone calls, made visits rarely, seeing as George was in New York, while Dream was on the other side of the country. They desperately tried to stay together, but they couldn't make it work.

It tore a piece of Clay's heart every time. 

George usually complained about how lonely he was in the wretched dreams, and every time Dream would comfort the struggling brunette with words of affirmation, saying that he was only a phone call away. They assured each other that they would work it out.

They never did.

And it reminded Clay all too much of reality. 

~A thousand miles seems pretty far

But they've got planes, and trains, and cars

I'd walk to you if I had no other way

...

the world will never ever be the same

and you're to blame...~

Clay, time and time again, so desperately craved that feeling of comfort; he craved George. His world was turned upside down and flipped every which way once he met George. He can't blame George, though.

George radiated an amount of sheer grace wherever he walked. George could easily light up a room with a small smile and a few steps inside of it. All George needed to do was glance at someone, and they'd automatically be smitten.

George was perfect, while Clay was an imperfection.

They were perfectly imperfect together, and that's what made them so unique.

That's the reason Dream wouldn't stop trying to make it work. He would walk a thousand miles and more just to see that beaming smile or his mocha eyes. He would crawl through the Sahara desert just to interlock their fingers.

Dream would do anything for their lips to reconnect, one last time.

But they'd never be able to touch their lips together again. They'd never be able to be together again, to be happy with one another again. Because George left, because of Clay's burst of emotions.

All Clay wanted was for George to be happy, and he'd do anything for him just to see a faint smile during the darkest of times. He'd do anything to see George, one last time. Yet, that was impossible.

Right?

______________

Clay woke up in the same old bed, waking up from the same old dream. His eyes were slightly stained with the same old familiar tears. It's been several months since George left Rosefelt, yet he still is a wreck, still feels devastated about it. 

The feeling that stands out the most, though, is guilt.

He knew deep down inside that it was his fault that everything that had happened, happened. He started the stupid fight, which led to the ultimate end of him and George.

Dream regretted everything, yet it was too late.

Clay wiped his eyes, painting more red puffiness under them. He slowly got out of bed and went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red; people would have been able to tell he had been crying. His nose was stained red, small sniffles escaping his nose every once and a while. His hair was ruffled and messy, the blond locks drooping over his face. His clothes were wrinkled, seeing as he hadn't changed in a couple weeks. There were dark bags under his eyes, signaling he hadn't slept.

He looked like a mess.

Not only did he appear to be a wreck, he was getting beaten up on the inside too. He stopped eating three meals a day, now only eating noodles on a good day. He had lost a massive amount of weight, and it just made him feel worse each day.

He felt guilty for not eating much, but when Clay did eat, all he wanted to do was throw it back up.

He hasn't been the same Dream he used to be ever since George left.

Every day, more and more Clay felt like the walls were caving in on him. He felt as if time was running out, and that everything would just stop soon. 

He felt like it was game over soon.

Not quite yet, though.

Before Clay ever even thought about leaving this world and saying goodbye, he needed to do a couple of important things. Even if George wanted nothing to do with him, he needed to talk to him, just say one last sentence to him, one final time.

Clay grabbed his phone and went to messages. He was surprised George hadn't blocked the man by now, seeing as he had left over 100 messages to him and over 70 calls. The blond fell in so deep, and he would never be able to escape the grave of love he made.

Maybe it was for the better, though, seeing as the only thing keeping Clay tied down to this earth was the possibility of seeing, even just speaking, to his once-love again.

> Hey there, George. 

Clay read the line tens upon tens of time, deciding if he should send it. Would it make the brunette more angry or sad? Was George really, truly happy without him?

Was it really worth sending it just for his own benefit?

The answer was yes, yes it was.

Clay hesitantly clicked the send button in the corner of his keyboard and closed his eyes. He dropped his phone on the counter in the bathroom and tilted his head down, heavily leaning onto the sink. He needed to breathe and calm himself down. His overthinking would send him into fits of anxiety attacks and hallucinations. The walls would cave in and he would try so hard to keep his emotions in check, but the walls would always crack.

The emotional dams always crack eventually. 

As Dream tried to breathe, tried to escape the false reality of his nightmares, he heard a small, sudden noise come from his phone. He didn't think much of it at first, thinking that it was probably just another twitter notification.

He hadn't used his phone to communicate with anyone in months. He had hundreds of missed messages and dozens of missed calls. His social medias would blow up every day, and it was all becoming a bit too much. He only kept onto his phone because it gave him a sense of false hope that his love would come back to him, and that they would message and speak again. 

Then he remembered the message he had sent George not too long ago.

His now dull-green eyes widened at the shocking realization and his hands practically sprinted towards the phone, fumbling with it and nearly dropping the object into the toilet. He flipped his phone over to the screen, turning it on as quickly as possible.

His lock screen was still of George smiling brightly into the camera, his eyes glistening with love and happiness.

Now was not the time to reminisce, though.

His fingers typed in the passcode and tapped the message icon as quickly as they could, looking for the contact name of the brunette. They easily found the name and tapped it, looking at the simple word that was sent, making butterflies soar around Dream's stomach.

It may have been small and simple, but it was a start at least.

> hi clay.

(1326 words)


	2. new beginnings, old memories

6 months ago

George felt regret.

He left, without saying goodbye. It wasn't the fact that he left; it wasn't even the fact that he left his friends. It was the fact that he left Clay without a word.

He left Rosefelt with unfinished business and a fight that was never made up, which would always and forever leave a slight feeling of guilt be settled deep inside of his stomach. 

He felt bad, yet he felt free at the same time.

He was finally able to do what he had wanted to do since he was as young as nine years old. He got to run free without any consequences.

He may not get external bruises, but what about internal?

Clay and Alex had left a mark on George. They were the ones to pick up George when he was at his lowest, they were the ones to wait for him at the hospital when he was in a coma, they were his family.

But George left, and the internal bruises from leaving them will never fade.

Tears threatened to fall out of the brunette's eyes, yet he didn't let them. He couldn't afford his overthinking to take over and let his vision blur. That would lead him to horrible outcomes and only put his pain on others' shoulders. For once, he wanted to stay alive. For once, he saw his worth.

For once, he saw the flaws, and he accepted them.

He saw the bruises, but let them be.

He finally saw the sorrow, but he didn't end his game of life.

He continued to try, and it felt incredible.

As George continued to drive down the roads, not knowing where he was going, he finally saw a parking lot next to a gigantic building, presumably an office. But next to that building, however was a field. He knew it wouldn't quite give the same comfort as the original, but it would do.

Small tears falling from the clouds splashed against the car, slightly picking up pace as the minutes ticked by. A grin slowly creeped up onto George's face, not a sad thought in his mind. He felt at peace; he finally felt at ease. It was nice, that feeling of freedom and no commitment. 

It wouldn't last, though.

In 6 months time, there will be a message from a familiar contact that will bring up a wave, no... a hurricane of emotions. There will be another storm of sorrow.

But that's a worry for another time.

The brunette stepped out of the car into the rain that pounded against his skin, yet it left a feeling of comfort drip down his body. The rain felt to George as if it were washing his problems and his once-emotions away, creating a brand new start, a brand new life for him.

It felt really, really damn good.

_______________

5 months ago

George had struggled more than expected to adjust into his new life.

His plan had a lot of flaws that were unexpected, such as the loss of money and his living situation. For most of the first month, he had slept on park benches and, sometimes, he would sleep in the field he first saw when he ran into the city. He sometimes found strangers handing him some money for food, which he was very thankful for. He only ate a meal a day or less, saving his money for a motel.

But then, a stranger showed up that changed his life for the better.

George was sleeping on a park bench, the sun just peaking over the clouds. The breeze sent chills down George's spine the whole night, seeing as he didn't have a blanket or any type of warmth. It took him hours upon hours to fall asleep, and in total, he probably got around 2 hours of sleep that night. That wasn't important, though.

What was important, was the random act of kindness that happened when he rose from his horrible slumber.

George's eyes fluttered open, the yellow ball of light shining down on him. Many clouds painted the sky as the sun partially hid from the people behind the cotton candy-like structures. The brunette looked around as his vision slowly adjusted to the morning sun. He sat up, and to his surprise, a stranger was standing right in front of him.

The stranger was a tad on the shorter side, while his hair was slightly longer and fluffy, it's color being similar to hazelnut coffee. His clothing style was slightly out there, but it fit him well. A smile radiated from his face, and George knew that he would be an amazing friend to have.

George was startled by the figure, slightly jumping at his presence, causing the boy to laugh. His giggle sent a warm sensation down George's soul, causing a smile to form on his face. His laugh was so contagious; everything about him just made George feel light and bubbly. 

He could already tell they were going to be very close friends.

"May I ask who you are?" George said with a confused tone, yet a smile still shined from his face. This man's presence really brought out the best in George and they just met.

"My name is Karl!" Karl beamed, leaving the smile that rested on the brunette's face to only grow. 

George nodded his head and looked around, still confused on why this Karl guy was here, but he wasn't complaining. Karl could tell George was confused, which only made him giggle his airy, light laugh even more.

"So basically I saw you sleeping on this park bench like a loser-" Karl paused before both of the boys started laughing at the stupid comment, causing George to roll his eyes, sending them even more into a laughing fit.

"And I was like 'ok so I should like offer him to stay at my place since I have an empty guest room in my apartment since he is literally sleeping on a park bench' and so I walked up to you and you were like snoring. I tried my best to keep my giggles to a minimal but it like kinda woke you up but that's fine sleep is for the weak anyways," Karl finally finished his little ramble, a smile still displayed on his face.

George was still a bit hung up on a sentence that was said in the middle of his ramble. Was Karl, a stranger he had just met, going to offer him a place to live?

As much as the basic rules of life would tell George not to just blindly follow a stranger, something in his gut told him that Karl was a good guy. He felt just slightly familiar to George, like he had seen or heard him somewhere before.

Even though George just met Karl, they already felt like best friends.

"So, are you gonna accept my offer?" Karl snapped George out of his trance, his eyebrow cocked, waiting for an answer.

George hesitated a bit, thinking about what he should do. Was he really just going to trust a stranger blindly, just like that, and stay at his place?

The answer was yes, yes he was.

"Sure! If it isn't too much of a burden of course. I obviously dont want to just barge into your life-," George began to ramble before being cut off by the bubbly boy standing in front of him.

"It really isn't that big of a deal whoever you are," George paused and giggled as he suddenly remembered he still hadn't told Karl his name.

"I'm George,"

"Nice to meet you, George! Now follow me and I can make you some soup or something because you literally look like you are about to freeze to death oh my honk..."

That's when George knew for sure that they were destined to be friends for a very long time.

_______________

3 months ago

Karl and George had only gotten closer each day since they had met.

Karl's apartment really just gave a home-like feeling to George. It was simple, the walls being a pastel sky blue with a few paintings of different varieties covering the walls. There were some photographs hanging upon the walls, mostly of Karl and his friends. There were two bedrooms, Karl getting the larger one while George slept in the guest room. There was a television in the center of the apartment while the kitchen laid to the left of the door. The window hung across the door like it had in Clay's apartment, showing a beautiful view of the city.

Overall, it was a very simple, yet elegant apartment.

George always admired the simple things.

George woke up in his bed, his hair ruffled from the night. He hadn't had a nightmare or dream in so long, and it felt wonderful and relief was the only feeling settled in George's soul. 

He sat up in the bed and walked to the small kitchen, the aroma of pancakes filling the air. Karl was stood over the stove, flipping pancakes over a pan. He turned around to see George and smiled, causing the brunette to smile back. 

Karl turned back around and put the final pancake onto a plate and set it on the table where George usually sat. The brunette took a seat and smiled thankfully to Karl. The bubbly boy went to the fridge and grabbed a can of whipped cream and a box of fresh strawberries, quickly rinsing them. Then, he grabbed George's plate of pancakes and piled the whipped cream on top, while placing the strawberries on it. The two boys sat down on the table, eating their pancakes while making small chatter.

Karl's phone dinged, causing Karl to pick it up, sending an immediate giggle to soar out of his lips. George's eyebrows furrowed, confused on who he was talking to.

"Who's got you in a laughing fit this morning?" George giggled, chowing down his pancakes.

"Oh just my friend Quackity-"

"Quackity?

______________

present

George still thought about Alex everyday. 

Don't get him wrong; George still thought about Clay a lot. It was just that George had learned to heal from the wounds and bruises that his ex left.

The sting from leaving Quackity, though, never left. 

Karl distracted George from that pain and hurt, and George would forever be thankful for that. Karl truly made the brunette happy when he was at his lowest points. He was the perfect best friend, practically George's brother at this point. 

He didn't fully take all of the pain away though. No one could.

The hurt of having to leave someone you cared about the most would never leave someone's soul, especially someone who loved so hard like George.

George woke up that morning with a bit of a slow start; he didn't sleep well at all. He got a nightmare for the first time in forever. It was basically a memory and not a dream, though. 

George was in a car, driving as fast as he could as tears sped down his face. He could hear shouts of Alex and Clay coming from the car behind him, but he couldn't stop. As much as he tried to stop and escape the car, he couldn't. It was as if an anchor was tying him down to the gas. 

That's when a different car struck the front of the car and when George abruptly woke up.

That didn't matter though, not right now.

George got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and attempted to fix his brutally messed-up hair as his phone dinged, signaling a message was sent. He picked up his phone after trying to wipe the drowsiness away from his eyes. He peered at the contact and his eyes widened in shock.

Dream had sent a message.

Hey there, George.

It was so simple, yet it left a strange feeling sit in George's gut, and he couldn't tell if it was good or bad. His overthinking began to rise as he reread the message over and over again.

Should I answer it? Should I leave him on opened? What should I do?

Those thoughts overran his mind and he tried to process what had just happened. He was just beginning to heal from the hurt. 

Now Clay was back, and George didn't know what to do.

All he knew was that he was fucked.

(2112 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter pog


	3. crumbling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "promises mean nothing when they can be broken so easily."

hi clay.

Clay couldn't stop rereading the simple message George had sent. It was two words, yet the meaning was infinite. Did that mean he was willing to talk again? Could they see each other again?

Could their lips reconnect again?

At this point, being a couple didn't mater to Clay. He needed George like he needed oxygen. George was a drug, and he just couldn't escape the taste. He couldn't let go, especially when George was only inches out of his grasp.

He could reach; all he had to do was try to be better. He had to be a better man and let George help him to become stable. He had to be better for not only him, but for George.

He was determined to get the one person who made his life bearable back.

Clay looked at the message one last time, gaining a newfound confidence he hadn't had since George and his morning anniversary. He looked in the mirror and saw a different guy. Not the depressed, lonely, sorrow-filled guy, but the old Clay. The Clay who spoke and strutted with confidence, the one who radiated graceful energy, the one who George fell in love with.

He was ready to get George back.

But the question was, was George?

________________

hi clay.

George reread the message dozens upon dozens of times. Was that enough? Was he enough? 

Not only was he dealing with the anxiety of talking to his ex again, he was dealing with Karl. As much as he loved and appreciated the bubbly boy, things had been a bit more tense since the brunette found out that his roommate and new best friend literally KNEW his old best friend.

His worlds were colliding, and the outcome?

He didn't know if it was going to be good or bad.

It's difficult to say, when the old and new clashes together. The worlds could mesh together and fit like perfect puzzle pieces, which would make things even easier for George. 

Or, they could crash and burn, and everything around George would crumble. That was the old normal for George.

The question was, was it the new normal?

The ghosts of George's past were chasing and haunting him, like he was destined to always be drawn back to Rosefelt, drawn back to his past that would always dangle above his head, threatening to drop back on him with the snap of a finger.

He was slowly, but surely, getting pulled back in to that life he used to live.

If he went back, he would become the person he never wanted to be again. He would become someone he used to know, someone who used to live in his body.

He would become his nightmare. 

_________________

6 months ago

George was gone, vanished just like that. How was he supposed to react? Would he ever come back? Would his best friend ever call him again? After everything they had been through, he left.

Quackity's heart stung like never before. 

Quackity had to learn, once again, to live without his best friend. It was like history kept on repeating itself and some form of greater power was torturing Alex, like they were trying to get him to give up and trying to get him to lose.

At this point, it was hard not to give up.

He knew it would take time to heal from the hurt. Alex knew it would take a lot of effort and patience.

But did he really have that time?

_______________

5 months ago

Quackity felt as if his time in the world was running out.

The hourglass that portrayed the time he had left in this world was running out of the grains of tan dust. 

He felt so hopeless. His best friend since childhood left, Clay fell into a depressive hole that he couldn't even try to escape, and everything just crumbled so, very fast. History just kept on repeating itself.

Alex witnessed first hand what depression could do to someone. He didn't want it happening to Clay as well. He couldn't just stand by and watch another one of his friend's get surrounded and destroyed by the darkness.

He was going to be the light at whatever price he had to pay.

Even if it costed him his own happiness.

________________

3 months ago

Quackity had stopped going to Clay's house a while ago.

It was hopeless. It was the same cycle, repeating itself over and over again. Quackity would drive to the apartment and buzz the building. There wouldn't be a response until minutes later, a young girl named Drista answering the machine. The doors would buzz, signaling the male could walk in. He would pass the doors and walk to the elevator, patiently waiting to arrive to the correct floor. He would walk out of the silver doors once they slid all the way and knock on the door, waiting to be let in.

Once the door opened, Alex would greet Drista and look for Clay, hoping he would be at least out of his bed, Yet, every single time, Dream had never moved an inch. He wouldn't speak, wouldn't flinch, would just lay in silence. 

George left a mark on both of them, but Quackity learned to heal.

Clay never did.

It didn't mean Quackity wasn't greatly effected, though.

Alex not only had to just watch his best friend, his brother, leave town without another word, but he had to watch his other best friend fall apart. The toll it took on Alex was unimaginable, but he didn't show it. He couldn't. He had to stay strong, for Clay.

But we all know what happens when people keep their emotions in.

They fall apart.

(972 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter lol


	4. old promises

1 month ago

Quackity had discovered something to keep him distracted and it instantly dragged him into this wonderful escape from reality, helped him escape from the hauntings of his past. 

Writing music.

He started off by singing covers of popular songs. He would sing and edit the final copy and produce the cover, posting them to YouTube and other social media platforms. He was naturally talented, his voice soft, yet similar to an angel.

His first cover, actually, was what got him a new best friend, a new brother.

Alex managed to find a song that had reminded him of George, that reminded him of his past. Of course he was going to at least sing to himself about it, maybe it would help form some kind of closure. It would let him get his feelings out without actually letting his walls crack in front of someone.

The song was called "Hey There Delilah" (yuh get it ig).

~Hey there, Delilah what's it like in New York City?

I'm a thousand miles away, but girl tonight you look so pretty,

yes you do...

Time Square don't sine as bright as you...

I swear It's true.~

I mean, what could Quackity say? George was perfect, but he left. 

He really, really missed George.

George wouldn't leave his thoughts, and it did nothing but hurt. Alex would nearly cry just at the thought of the brunette because he left a mark on the boy. Having that someone you considered your home leave?

The pain was indescribable. 

~Hey there, Delilah

Here's to you...

This one's for you.~

Quackity just felt like a part of his heart and soul was missing.

After editing the music and editing the video he was ready to post on Youtube, there was only one thing to decide left. The title. He knew what the title and description was going to be. The best part was that no one that he knew had even slightly noticed his channel, so he could post anything he wanted without worry.

The title would be 'Hey There, George,' and the description would be as follows:

This is my cover of Hey There, Delilah that is dedicated to my old friend George. He was practically a brother to me, but he left to gain a better life. I don't blame him, but I do miss him. I miss my brother.

After posting the video to his channel, which was rapidly growing, he climbed into his bed, staring at a blank screen on his phone. The only thing his mind would go to would be George, and how the night after they made up from the first fight, they had promised each other they would stay.

"you promised...," Quackity whispered as tears slowly rolled down his cheeks.

Promises can be broken so, so easily.

________________

Quackity woke up the next day, bags under his eyes that were also swollen from the lack of sleep. He had spent most of the night reminiscing on broken memories, tears practically slow-dancing on his skin. 

He rubbed his eyes and stretched his tired limbs and reached for his phone. He had a couple missed messages and maybe one or two missed calls, but nothing other than that, besides a twitter dm. 

That was interesting.

Quackity's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, seeing as he usually never got calls or messages from anyone beside his parents. He quickly went to twitter and clicked on his notifications. He went to the private message and looked at the user.

His name was 'KarlJacobs_'... strange. He had never head of him before nor seen him. Who was this Karl guy?

"Hi! My name is Karl and I know ur probably so confused to who I am LOL but I just wanted to reach out and tell you how talented I think you are. I found you off of YouTube and I saw the cover of one of my favorite songs you did, 'Hey There Delilah'. I also read the description. I know someone who left me and absolutely shattered me... but that's besides the point. uh yeah that's it ur talented anyways bye."

Wow, Karl really knew a way with his words. So, so poetic. 

Quackity's lips slowly twisted into a smile, rereading the message a few times. No one had actually told him in detail how he was talented, and even though the message from Karl wasn't very detailed, it felt so personal.

It was nice.

Quackity decided to message Karl back, causing a beautiful new friendship to bloom.

"Hi Karl, thank you so much! Ik i'm such a good singer LMAO i'm just good at everything I do tbh! anyways we both had someone leave? that's not poggers and i'm sorry about that:( I know the pain you have to go through when someone leaves. it sucks ass. I hope you feel better:)"

That was the message that he sent, and it caused a wonderful friendship. Their personalities meshed together so well, like perfect, matching puzzle pieces. They had continued to talk every day after that, eventually sleep calling with each other. They had become best friends so fast as George slowly became a distant memory to Alex.

Alex had healed, finally.

For that moment.

________________

present

Alex had been waking up earlier now, feeling motivation to start the day and talk to Karl. The bubbly, older boy had become a prominent part in his life, practically controlling his every decision. Quackity truly loved Karl and they promised they would never, ever separate.

Hopefully this promise wouldn't be broken like the past.

Alex immediately went to the closet when he hopped out of bed and got changed into a navy blue hoodie with a small, bronze-colored duck in the upper right corner. He decided to just wear black sweatpants with the hoodie and put on his favorite navy beanie to match his hoodie after he brushed his hair. He vigorously brushed his teeth, excitement taking over his body, practically jumping up and down at the thought of talking to his best friend.

Karl really brought out the best in him.

After he finished freshening up, he instantly grabbed his phone and his fingers swiftly tapped away at the numbers, typing in his passcode. 

His passcode used to be George's birthday, but now he changed it to Karl's. It was almost as if Karl had replaced George, which he hadn't thought about since Karl was like a wave that had washed away any thoughts of his old friend.

He went into contacts and selected the name of 'Karlos<3' and pressed it, calling the bubbly boy, anticipating a hasty response, but he didn't answer the first call. It was a tad worrying to Quackity, seeing as usually after one ring Karl would answer the phone with his usual, excited voice. 

He tried calling again, and finally after the fourth and final ring, his best friend had picked up the phone.

"KARLLLL what the hell why'd you miss my first call? I was worried bitch?" Quackity spoke through the phone, holding in a laugh.

Karl giggled in response; you could practically hear the eye roll through the phone.

"You are being awfully clingy today aren't you," Karl sarcastically responded, receiving an eye roll from Quackity. 

"I had to help out my friend George-"

"Who's George?" Alex replied in a rushed tone, his mind praying it wasn't the George he was thinking of.

"George Davidson...?" Karl questioned, confusion clear in his voice. Then realization hit him as fast as a wrecking ball.

The song that brought them together was about a George.

George Davidson.

Oh no.

(1319 words)


	5. never changed

Quackity and George may have been separated for months, but not for much longer, no matter if they wanted it or not. 

Karl had built them both up to the best versions of themselves separately, but can he do that same thing again while they are together?

That's a secret I'll never tell. XOXO, author<3 (IM SORRY I HAD TO MAKE THE JOKE ANYWAYS MOVING ONNN).

He really, really hoped so, because he had a surprise for George and Alex; he just hoped everything wouldn't crash and burn.

Oh, how he was so, very wrong.

_______________

George woke in his bed, his face drained of any color. Karl always tried to get him out of bed, but he couldn't and he didn't know why. He wouldn't tell the bubbly boy, and it was worrying. George hadn't eaten in days, barely moving from where he lied in his bed, almost as if he was waiting for death to consume his soul.

Karl knocked on his door, a smile resting on his face while his eyes completely juxtaposed his lips, darting around the apartment, almost as if he was searching for an emergency escape. He had an idea that may raise George from his death bed, but it was really risky.

He was willing to take the risk, though.

All that mattered was George. 

Karl, after receiving no reply, slowly twisted the knob that felt icy against his hands and opened the door, peering into the room. He saw the same old picture he had been seeing for weeks. George's frail body, laying underneath the cotton bedsheets and the covers. The fan in the room was slowly revolving, sending the tiniest bit of air throughout the room. George's hair was knotted and destroyed from the lack of brushing it. His skin was pale, and it almost looked as if he was slowly freezing.

George was fading, and it hurt.

The weak brunette groaned in response to the noise of the door, not wanting any visitors. He knew he looked a mess, but he had no motivation to change. He had no motivation, and he was slipping back into his old ways and thoughts.

Clay had built George into finally being the man he was meant to be, just to tear him down again.

It all started with bruises, and now all that's left is scars.

Karl was hurting, too. It was like a domino effect. It started with Clay beating George up, then it led to bonds, then it led to feelings, which led to sparks, which led to disaster. All that's left is the aftermath of Clay.

Dream was a hurricane that swopped George off of his feet, just to smash him in the ground ten times harder.

That couldn't be considered love.

That was considered false hope.

The brunette really, truly thought that things would work out for him. He thought that Clay had changed.

But he never did.

Change never comes easy, but when it comes to the people you love, you should want to change for the better. The problem was, Clay had adored himself before George.

And even love couldn't change that.

If George couldn't change Clay then, would he ever be able to save himself along with the brunette? Would he be able to collect the scraps of their love and rebuild it?

George didn't know, and that hurt the most.

Karl's heart broke again at the sight. George was one of his best friends, and he too deeply wanted him to be happy. He knew George needed time to heal.

But how much time would it take?

The slightly younger boy walked up to the bed and sat by the brunette who had looked like a ghost. He shakes his shoulder slightly, causing George's puffy eyes that were painted red to open. 

His brown, hazel eyes that were full of happiness and love before had faded into a dull pit of sorrow.

George opened his mouth to say something, whisper anything to Karl, but no words would come out. He was too weak to speak now.

How was George going to recover if all anyone did was hurt him?

Time and time again, all people did was prove to George how worthless he was. They made him think that he wasn't good enough, and that HE was the problem. 

They taught him to hurt, but never how to heal.

Karl waited for a sentence from George, but seeing as nothing burst out of the other's lips, he began to tell George his plan. 

Karl was risking it all to teach George to heal, potentially.

"So, George... I had an idea, and you might not like it at first, but I really think it might help give you closure...," Karl paused before telling George the idea, the other's eyebrows furrowing, urging him to continue.

"I was thinking that maybe... we could possibly... drive to your old town?" Karl shut his eyes, anticipating a sharp and cold reaction from George.

When he peeked out, all he saw was George, staring back at him like a deer that had been caught in head lights. 

"... what?" George barely managed to whisper out, a whirlpool of emotions taking over his body. His mind spun with thoughts, each one contradicting the next. 

Maybe that would gain him closure. No, all it would bring would be broken pasts. But maybe it would end his story in Rosefelt?

George was struggling to decide whether he should go through with Karl's plan. He was making a list of pros and cons in his head, yet there was one big pro and one big con that were the same.

Clay.

Maybe he could make things right with the blond, and end their fairy tale the way it was supposed to end.

Maybe they were supposed to end on a 'never meant to be' instead of a 'happily ever after', and George was okay with that.

"yes," George replied with shaky breaths, barely audible to Karl.

"What? You'll go?" Karl seemed surprised, because he was expecting the opposite reaction from the brunette, but nonetheless, Karl was happy. George would finally get the closure he deserved.

He would end his story.

Or would it just uncover more pages that awaited to be written?

maybe it would do both.

(1085 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kinda short sorry lol
> 
> yes I did post this at 1 am what about it?


	6. the diner

(TW food struggles LOL ME ASF and mention of vomit)

The road trip to Rosefelt was pure misery. 

Karl was driving, George clearly not in the state to do anything that involved cars. His limbs kept bouncing up and down, anxiety practically controlling his body like he was a puppet. 

George was going back to see not only his old best friend, but the person who had costed him his everything. 

Clay had caused the absolute most pain to George, yet he also taught George a lesson, a very important one at that.

Don't trust so easily.

Karl's mind was also getting taken over by caution. How would they react to seeing each other again? George didn't even know they were planning on meeting Quackity again, but he could infer. Would they be okay? Would George be okay?

His heart was telling him one thing, while his brain was telling him another. 

How were they even meant to be okay after all of the trauma they had been through?

Karl had low expectations but high hopes, while George's energy was already drained from just sitting in a car and thinking. How could he not think?

He was opening his unfinished symphony back up, getting prepared to end the lyrics.

As Karl drove along the streets, tall evergreens and fields that strung blades of grass throughout them whizzed past the windows, the breeze flowing through the windows that were slightly open.

While the car drove, the wheels took the car down the roads and approached a sign that read the following: 

Welcome to Rosefelt!

It was official. George was back in town to gain closure and end this chapter, once and for all.

Who knew it could have gone so, horribly wrong?

________________

Karl didn't know exactly where to start, seeing as they couldn't just pull up to Quackity's house right away. So, he found a small diner that George had told him about and parked there, hoping it would be a good starting place to ease the boys into the town that brought memories home to the shorter of the boys.

George easily recognized the place, and relief grew in his system. The diner was one of the only places where George felt completely and utterly safe, and at home.

It hadn't changed one bit, and it brought a sense of comfort to George, but also it brought back a fear to settle in his chest.

If a simple diner couldn't even change, how was a person supposed to?

How was Clay supposed to?

George shook the thought out of his mind, turning his head to Karl, who smiled in response, the familiar, kind shape resting on the bubbly man's face. George's lips curved upward, a warm feeling spreading throughout his body.

Karl was one of the only people who could make him happy nowadays. 

It was almost as if Karl replaced Clay and Quackity, like he had just stolen their spots, yet George didn't mind.

He was just happy that someone still cared about him. 

George and Karl unlocked their doors and stepped out of the car, walking by each other's sides, sticking to each other like glue. They strolled through the doors and greeted the same old lady that had now recognized George.

"I haven't seen you in such a long time, it's felt like ages!" The kind woman greeted George, slightly laughing at her own statement. 

George laughed nervously, wrapping his left arm around his stomach and grasping his other arm. He usually felt comfort in this diner, but something was off.

He didn't belong there.

Karl could tell the boys were both anxious, so he hurriedly ended the conversation and led George to a small booth in the corner of the room.

"You okay, man?" Karl questioned with a worried tone, which only received a nod from George. Both of the boys knew he wasn't okay, but they didn't push it.

After all, they weren't there to ask questions, they were in Rosefelt to answer them.

George and Karl continues to sit in silence, peering at their menus. George wasn't hungry, considering every food grossed him out, but he knew he had to eat. 

If he didn't, he would be pure skin and bones too soon, and that would hurt more people than just himself.

Yet, something was holding him back. He just couldn't eat, or else he knew he would just vomit it up within the hour.

Something was wrong with him, and he knew that, but he was too scared to admit it.

George couldn't bare even just the thought of hurting Karl like he had hurt Alex and Clay. He had done enough damage already.

A young man, maybe around the age of 20, walked up to their booth with a fake smile plastered upon his face. He clearly didn't want to be there, as well as surviving off of minimum tips. 

"Can I get you guys drinks?" The waiter bluntly asked, his lips as straight as a line. Even though the atmosphere before the man was tense, the waiter just made it even worse. When was George going to catch a break?

"I'll take a coffee, please," Karl politely said even though the waiter was slightly rude. 

"I'll take a water," George whispered; his voice cracked between the words.

"Sir, can you speak up?" The waiter asked with an annoyed tone, which caused frustration to bubble up in all three of the men near the booth. 

"He asked for a water," Karl replied for George, annoyance lacing his tone. 

The waiter strolled away while rolling his eyes, not even double checking their order. This could not have been any worse of a new start in Rosefelt.

Right?

The waiter promptly walked back with the drinks, handing a glass of water to George and a black coffee to Karl, also placing creamer on the table. 

"Can I get you guys something to eat?"

As Karl nodded his head and his eyes scrolled down the list of food items, the waiter twisted his head to face the shorter brunette, who simply shook his head in response. 

The waiter raised his eyebrows and looked the boy up and down, shaming him without verbally saying it. 

"Are you sure? You look like you need-,"

"He's sure, now back off!" Karl defended, nearly spilling his coffee. He could tolerate rudeness to him, but he would not tolerate body shaming, especially to George. 

Karl knew George would eat when he was ready, but not in front of people. If it was just them, George would at least eat a little bit, at least a few bites of any type of fuel. 

The waiter groaned and rolled his eyes in response, soon after cocking his eyebrows for Karl to order his food.

He simply ordered a cheeseburger and fries and the waiter noted the order down, and double checked with the table. The boys nodded at the correct order, causing the waiter to walk away from the boys and head towards the kitchen.

The chimes from the door rang, signaling that there was another person that was entering through the doors. George didn't even bother looking at the door, scared that it would just cause memories of Clay to relapse inside of his mind.

The brunette turned his attention to Karl, but to his surprise, a shocked, nearly worried look rested on the bubbly boy's face. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes were also widened, his lips slightly parted.

George's curiosity took over, so he twisted his head towards the enterance, which he instantly regretted. He recognized the short figure and the signature blue beanie. 

Of course that day could have gotten worse.

"Alex?"

(1300 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for this trash filler HAHAH ANYWAYS thoughts on tales of the sap and Tommy's stream???? like what just happened????


	7. storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are getting spicy and not in the seggsy way ahaha

(TW implied panic attack, yelling)

"Alex?"

George didn't know how to react. His old best friend had just walked in the diner while his new best friend was sitting right next to him.

Quackity didn't notice them at first, just peering around the room looking for an available table. Then his eyes struck the corner booth and they widened, lips parting at the shock. 

Alex felt a whirlpool of emotions. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to run up and hug George, he wanted to do so much, but he couldn't.

Karl stood up from the booth, George giving him a puzzled expression before realizing that Quackity and him were close too.

He didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Karl gave an empathetic look towards George before he twisted his head to face Alex, who quickly shook his head to escape his thoughts and walked towards Karl, engulfing him in a hug. 

George stared at the boys, seeing how happy they were. He envied it. He knew he was close with Karl, but seeing Quackity moving on from him, it hurt. He knew he was being hypocritical, but he couldn't help it.

He wanted Quackity to be happy, but that didn't mean George wanted to be replaced, but it was too late now.

He had been replaced, and Quackity had too.

It just rubbed salt in the wounds.

After Karl and Quackity had their happy moment, only for a moment, Karl walked back to the booth, leading Alex back to where George had sat. 

Was this a good idea? Probably not.

Was it worth a try? Of course it was. He just wanted to make things right; Karl wanted everyone to be happy, and he would sacrifice everything he had for his friends to be happy again.

But would it be enough?

Quackity and Karl made it to the table, Karl patting the seat next to him for Alex to sit. 

George just couldn't comprehend what was happening. His vision started to blur as tears threatened to spill out, his voice still not strong enough to speak. He barely had any energy to cry, but when adrenaline kicks in, it takes over your senses.

Quackity knew what was happening; he had witnessed it before. The fidgeting, the panic glazed over George's milk chocolate eyes, his lips tightly squeezed shut as to not let out a sound. This happened at the cafe where they had met Clay for breakfast.

The day that he chose to ignore George.

The day before the promise that they would be, always and forever, brothers.

But, George broke that promise, not him. 

If Quackity thought about it, more and more, George was the only one to blame. They could have texted and kept in contact, he could have left with him, but no. George had decided to break that promise, not him.

Soon before Alex had controlled his emotions, he felt anger bubbling up inside of him. GEORGE left. GEORGE broke the promise. GEORGE went without a word. It was all him.

He tried to keep his emotions in check, so he decided to step outside. He left the booth and walked out the doors for air, making sure to not let his lips utter any words.

Karl was left at the table with George, though the shorter brunette swiftly stood up and walked to the bathroom, his legs barely strong enough to keep him stable. He walked through the wooden door and his back crawled down the wall until he was curled up against it. Tears began to spill out of his eyes as thoughts flooded his mind.

It was his fault that their friendship ended. 

It was his fault that he had ruined everything.

He left without thinking of anyone else, which only shattered more people than helped.

George just felt guilty. The worst part was, was that he wouldn't be able to make that up. He couldn't just heal someone automatically after dealing that kind of emotional damage to someone. It would take time; too much time that George didn't have.

The salty tears stained his face, his lips quivering at the amount of energy it was taking. He needed to scream and let his emotions out, but he couldn't. 

George was building an emotional wall again, and so was Quackity.

That was only bound to lead to more pain.

The brunette in the bathroom steadied his breaths, trying to calm his roaring thoughts down. His guilt just wouldn't stop building, which only led for the dams that were blocking his emotional scars to grow.

He leaned onto the sink to stabilize himself and energize his legs, and then slowly walked out of the bathroom, nearly limping. He walked over to the booth, a puzzled expression growing on his face, seeing as Karl was the only one sitting in the tiny booth.

"Where's Alex?" George managed to squeak out, only gaining a point from Karl to the doors. 

They needed to talk, not only for closure, but for apologies.

George walked out of the diner and into the parking lot, the cold breeze making his hair scramble around his head. 

He wrapped his arms around his chest to try and gain warmth as he looked around, not seeing a sign of his old best friend until his eyes laid upon the signature beanie standing maybe 10 feet away.

George took a deep breath and tried to shake off his nerves, telling himself that it would be okay. All they had to do was talk.

It surely wouldn't go down in flames, right?

Quackity stood, alone in the wind, caught up in his thoughts. His eyes were glazed with tears, yet none spilled out. His breaths weren't stabilized, and he looked as if he was about to collapse.

George walked towards the boy---well, more like limped--and touched his shoulder, receiving a flinch from the boy. He turned around to face the brunette and nearly burst into tears then and there.

There they were, two ex best friends, standing alone in the cool night air, the moon shining bright above them. Very few stars scattered the sky, most being covered by grey clouds.

It looked like it was about to storm.

"What are you doing here?" Quackity asked, voice barely above a whisper. He seemed angry, in which he had every right to be. He sounded sad and infuriated and panicked, as if his whole world had just fallen apart in front of him.

He looked even more hurt, his eyebrows furrowed down, and his eyes gleaming with pain. They were glassy and dark, almost as if a monster had taken over his soul. 

"I came out here to check if you were okay," George's voice cracked between the words, hurt also showing very clearly.

He was so, deeply sorry, and anyone could see that, but Quackity had held every emotion he had behind the walls.

They were bound to crack at any point, causing a flood to erupt.

"If I'm okay..?" Quackity's tone deepened as rain began to pour from the clouds, lightly at first. The water then pounded against their skins, it seemingly began to quicken the pace each second. Lightning struck from the sky, booming noises surrounding them.

The storm had arrived.

"How could I be okay when you left? You left me, ALONE. You were my BROTHER, AND YOU LEFT!" Tears spilt out of Quackity's eyes; the walls had broken.

"I- I'm sorry!" George stuttered through tears that were mixed in with the pouring rain. He knew it was going to be bad, but the hurt still was there.

"YOUR'E SORRY?" Quackity yelled, laughing shortly after, looking up at the storm above them. He sounded like he was a maniac, and it scared both of them, but it was too late.

"You left for 6 MONTHS! and NOW you decide to show up? After everything you put me through, you just suddenly came back, expecting everything to be okay?" Quackity kept spouting out words, him meaning some and others were lies. 

George stood speechless, his heart breaking at the sight and sound of Quackity. He knew he was right; of course Alex was right. 

"I- I didn't- that's not-" George couldn't even manage to spit out a sentence, his energy already being consumed by sobs. 

"You can't just- just come back, like that...," Quackity's tone softened as his sobs became more audible. Lightning struck above them, the rain still pouring from the dark grey clouds above the two.

"I know," George whispered, getting light headed from the amount of energy it was taking just to stand upright.

The two stood in silence as the rain slammed against the concrete, the only sound able to be heard was the cars whizzing by the road and the tears from the clouds. 

"I- I'm s-so sorry, Alex," George whispered between sobs, in which Quackity only looked down towards the ground below them.

"I know."

George and Alex were broken, and they both knew that, and it was too far to be fixed. They couldn't mend their friendship, at least not back to what it used to be. 

That's what stung the most.

"I'm gonna go. Tell Karl- just- tell him anything," Alex spoke thrugh the rain and twisted his head, walking in the direction of his car.

There George was, left standing in the pouring rain alone, tears not losing speed as they fell down his cheeks. His heart was broken, each piece scattered around, too far to be collected and brought back together again.

His legs were weak, too weak, which caused George to be pulled to the ground, falling to his knees. Everything had happened too quickly, and it hurt so, so much. 

George had one last thing to say as he stared into the night sky, the storm only getting worse. He felt lightheaded from the amount of energy that had taken.

"I know I promised, but so did you...," George's voice cracked as all hell broke loose.

That was only beginning, of the nightmare that was George's trip back to Rosefelt.

(1700 words)


	8. downfalls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay lolol

George sat alone in the pounding rain, tears spilling out of his eyes. It felt as if his heart was being pulled apart, inch by inch. 

Quackity was gone. Clay was gone. The only one left was Karl, but if he had to choose between George and Alex?

George didn't know who he would choose, and that scared him.

All George truly, really had, was himself. But... that was never enough before.

And, like I said, it's so, so hard for a person to change, basically impossible.

As the brunette cried until his eyes became dry, Karl walked out of the doors, sending the chimes to ring throughout the stormy air. Lightning struck from the sky, signifying that it was only bound to get worse.

Karl kneeled down to George's eye level once he arrived, scanning his body. His limbs were all twitching, his eyes screamed sorrow and regret, while his hair was flopped over his forehead, soaked from the rain.

He grabbed the shorter male by the shoulders and picked him up, setting George's arm around his own shoulders. They then proceeded to the car, the rain slightly lowering in speed. The drops of water splashed against the windows around them, that being the only noise filling the silence between the two boys. 

Once Karl set George down in the passengers seat, he took off towards the divers seat and sat down, closing the door behind him. He turned on the ignition and put the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking space. 

He put the car back into drive and steered the vehicle down the roads that were now flooded with rain water. The took off towards who knows where, seeking for a place to crash.

George then thought of a not-so-good idea.

The weaker brunette quickly searched through his pockets, his hands seeking for his phone. Once he found it, George pulled the item out and smashed his fingers against the number keys, typing in his passcode.

George's passcode was still Alex's birthday. He hadn't changed it, after all of this time.

Quackity had moved on, but George, even though he wanted to, he couldn't.

And that sliced a wound that was too deep to be healed.

George quickly wiped the thought of Alex away and searched his messages, looking for the familiar contact name which he loved and hated at the same time.

He knew he wasn't thinking straight; he knew he just wanted a fast solution to heartbreak.

But, nonetheless, he went through with his plan--his stupid, oh so stupid, plan--and texted the one person who had been tearing his heart apart since day one.

He texted Clay.

______________

hi clay... again. I was wondering if me and my friend could crash at your place. We are here in Rosefelt, but we don't have a place to stay. I know you hate me right now, but please. Just this once, be here for me.

Clay had mixed emotions about this text from his ex that he still wasn't, and would never be, over and done with.

The fact that George thinks he hates him tears his heart to shreds, but the opportunity to see him again? He wouldn't let that go.

Dream lost George once, he won't make the same mistake twice.

Right?

I could never hate you George. Even when the sun explodes and the world bursts into flames, I will always and forever, love you. Of course you can stay at my place.

Clay reread the message a billion times before deciding not to send it. He couldn't be that straight forward.

If Dream was ever going to get the opportunity to be with George again, they needed to take their time.

And Clay would always wait a million years and a million more for George.

Yeah, you can stay at my place!

Dream, after deciding the simple message was enough, he clicked the send button in the corner of his screen. Was the message enough? Was it good enough?

Was Clay enough?

He didn't know the answer to that, and neither did George, but that was okay.

They had time.

Right?

_______________

George had given Karl his phone to use as a GPS; the address to the apartment complex was already typed into the system. 

Karl first looked confused at the address, but decided to follow the directions, since George knew the town better than anyone. The GPS woman spoke the directions, causing Karl to turn down windy roads until he managed to find the tall building which was surrounded by other small houses.

They quickly jumped out of the car--the rain had nearly come to a complete stop now--and walked towards the complex, George's nerves taking over.

What if he changed his mind? Then what would George do?

They hobbled under the cover which protected the entrance and the boys from the light splatter of rain. George pressed the button of Clay's room number, signaling that he had arrived at the place.

As they patiently waited for a voice or any signal that the boys could enter, a small beep came from the doors. 

Karl was the first to grab the door handle, opening the door for George.

"M'Lady," Karl giggled.

"Oh shut up," George laughed along, then reminiscing on past memories with Clay. The first time they had actually, truly felt like friends, was at this apartment.

They spent all their time together, at this apartment. 

This apartment was their uprising.

But what if it's their downfall, too?

Karl approached the elevator closely behind George. He could tell the brunette was anxious; George's hands were fidgeting and he tapped his foot impatiently, seemingly aggravated that the elevator door would not open.

Karl swiped George's hand into his, peering into his eyes, signaling that everything would be okay. George nodded at Karl as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. 

The boys stepped inside as the doors slid back to its original position, the floor suddenly rising each second.

They arrived at the second floor and walked to the number of which Clay's family lived in. 

George was panicking. What if the blond turned them away? What would they do then? They didn't have anywhere else to go. This was their only option; they needed this.

Karl knocked on the door, still gripping George's hand tightly. The brunette squeezed back with as much force, seconds passing by like hours. 

If the door hadn't opened by now, then it was never going to open, and disappointment was the only feeling that George felt.

Just as Karl was about to lead George back to the elevator, the door suddenly swung wide open.

George stood in amazement, looking at the familiar blond. His hair had been disheveled and he was wearing a baggy, white tee with gray sweatpants. He looked like a train wreck.

"Hey there, George."

(1165 words)


	9. skin and bones

(TW eating issues lololol me, vomit)

"Hey There, George."

His clothes were wrinkled while his skin was as pale as the snow, bags drooped under his eyes, which contrasted his face. Clay seemed to be tearing at the seams, which he was. 

But George didn't know that, but he sure did now.

And Dream was mortified.

"Who is this?" Clay asked, twisting his head to face the mystery boy George knew as Karl. His voice was raspy, dry even. He sounded dehydrated, and looked like he hadn't eaten in days.

George was worried.

Was it his fault Dream was in this state?

"Oh- uh this is Karl," George replied warily, looking the tall blond up and down. Had he even slept?

"Hi!" Karl greeted with a cheery tone, immediately replacing Clay's lips that were in a tight line to a warm, friendly smile. Karl knew how to brighten a room just by saying hello. 

It was amazing.

Clay opened the door wide and gestured his hand into the room, urging them to enter the apartment room. Karl stepped inside, hand still laced with George's. Clay's expression told everything George needed to know.

"We aren't together, if that's what you were thinking," George quickly stated, eyebrows slightly raised at the blond.

Clay nearly bursted at the seams then and there.

George was single, and so was Clay. Maybe, just maybe, they could have another opportunity at love.

Clay nodded his head, his lips nearly letting a sigh of relief escape. 

Yet, he noticed a peculiar look from George. His eyes seemed to be stinging with confusion, his eyebrows cocked with worry. He was looking at Clay, and not in the crush type of way.

George was worried about him, which was scarier than anything.

"Have you eaten today?" George asked Clay, his voice soft, barely above a whisper. Karl was off in the bathroom, probably sitting on the toilet with his phone scrolling through twitter. 

Truthfully, Clay hadn't eaten that day, or the day before, or the day before that. He maybe had a small cup of water in the past three days, but that was about it. 

"Uh- yeah," Clay lied, and both of the boys knew that. George wasn't going to let it go that easy, though.

"You need to eat, Dream. Have, like, an apple or something. Please, for me," George begged, tossing a green apple that was lying on the kitchen counter to Clay.

Dream sighed, closing his eyes, and prepared for a bite of food. He hated the idea of eating, and it nearly made him throw up then and there. 

He nibbled on the green fruit, taking the smallest bite possible. It tasted bittersweet in his mouth, the small crunch ringing throughout his ears sending a horrible sensation down his spine. He could feel his throat burn as the apple threatened to come back up.

Karl stepped out of the bathroom, the noise of the door unlocking startling the exes standing in the kitchen. As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, Clay sprinted past him into the room and locked the door tightly. 

Karl could hear fast footsteps coming from the other side of the apartment, while a disgusting noise emerged from the other side of the restroom door. 

George ran to the door and stopped, the vomiting noise coming from Clay startling him. He flinched at the gagging, suddenly wanting to throw up himself. Just hearing that noise was enough for him to faint.

George withheld the noises and began knocking on the door, quietly at first, but when there was no response, he started to knock louder and louder.

No response.

It came to the point where George had to burst the door down, Karl standing right behind him. Both were worried sick, to the point where they might have called 911 if George hadn't opened that door.

As soon as the lock came loose and the door caved into the bathroom, Karl had to run to the kitchen and throw up in the garbage can.

Clay had not only threw up in the toilet, but had thrown up, quite literally, all over the place. The floor was now painted with a greenish-yellow, thick substance, while the brims of the toilet also were stained with the same thing.

Dream lied on the floor, his eyes glued shut. He was breathing heavily, exhausted from the amount of effort it took to do that.

He knew he had problems with eating, but he didn't think it was this bad.

It scared him.

George nearly fainted then and there at the sight of Clay, lying on the floor, practically basking in the green and yellow substance. He gagged, covering his mouth with his hand.

Clay whimpered from the floor, still panting heavily. His shirt was now stained, and so were his gray sweatpants.

George immediately, almost slipping on the vomit, kneeled to his side, rubbing his back. He felt pity for Clay, and almost felt guilty.

Was this all because he left?

George couldn't even fathom the thought that this was all because of him, but while his overthinking began to occur, Clay seemed to read his mind.

"This I-isn't y-yo-your f-fault," The blond stuttered through heavy breaths.

George was relieved, but apart of him didn't believe the words. There was a part of him deep down that knew it was his fault, but he decided to shove it away.

He was rebuilding the walls, again.

How many times does it take for someone to learn a lesson?

Karl was sitting down in the kitchen, balled up on the floor. His hands were covering his ears, afraid to hear the same puking noises that had just occurred minutes prior. He had always had a major fear of throwing up, ever since he was little, and this? 

Oh, it felt horrible and terrifying.

Meanwhile, George stayed kneeling by Clay's side, until the blond asked him through muffled sobs for clean clothes. 

He quickly got up and, while avoiding the green vomit, maneuvered through the bathroom and into Clay's bedroom. He scanned the closet for a simple black hoodie that was decorated with a bright white smiley face. He then grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the drawer. 

George hadn't realized until then that his own hoodie was now covered in vomit, so he also had to change.

As much as he didn't want to do this, he quickly stole a hoodie that was way too big for him out of Clay's closet and took his shirt off, replacing it with the hoodie.

It still smelled of Dream's cologne, which George had adored when they were dating.

And, as much as he hated to admit it, he still loved the scent now.

He shoved his thoughts about Clay away and grabbed the clothes, returning to the bathroom. The blond had stood up now and walked out of the bathroom, leaning heavily on the wall. His forehead was drenched with sweat, his hair slightly damp as well.

George sighed and walked over, handing the blond the new clothing.

"Actually, uh- would you- would you mind- putting the sweatshirt on for me?" Clay hesitantly questioned. He clearly was weak, and George took pity on him.

The shorter of the two sighed and nodded his head. He then proceeded to lift the white tee that was drenched with throw-up and took it off.

He gasped at the sight. He could see Clay's ribs clearly; he was skin and bones now.

"Oh, Clay..."

"I know."

(1289 words)


	10. Minecraft beds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY IT'S HERE im so so sorry for the wait:((( I wish I could have gotten it out WAYYY sooner but I just couldn't find a way to lead the story from the last chapter:( I hope this is good enough!

"I know."

It hurt George seeing Clay like this. As someone who has struggled with food their whole life, it brought him immense guilt. He left, and it turned out for the worse.

Why was the brunette so, so stupid?

That didn't matter now, though.

All that mattered, was Clay.

For once, the roles were reversed. It wasn't George's story right now. He already had most of his story finished, but he came back to Rosefelt to end it.

That only led for another book, Clay's book, to start.

That wasn't necessarily a bad or good thing, yet.

Yet. That dreaded, oh so dreaded word. It means that anything could happen; after all, the limits to the world are non-existent. 

The unknown is a scary place, though.

_____________

One week later

George and Clay had gotten closer as the sun set and rose for the week. Karl would go out each day, most likely to check on Alex after the incident between him and the brunette. While he went out, George and Clay were left in the apartment, alone.

It started off quite awkward, seeing as what their latest interaction was. George spent most of the first day just trying to make small talk, while also slightly suggesting options for Clay to get help with his appetite troubles.

George shouldn't have been one to talk, though.

While all of his attention was on his ex to eat, he sometimes forgot to feed his stomach himself. He barely ate anymore, his meals consisting of an apple and a slice of toast... on a good day. Clay had noticed, and it tore him apart.

But George was different than Clay when it came to help.

Clay would get help when he knew it was bad, but George?

George was scared to get help. He was scared to be considered weak, scared to be considered someone who was desperate.

But you aren't desperate or weak for getting help. You are strong, by letting someone bare the pain with you instead of carrying it alone.

So, Clay didn't offer or push for George to also get help with him. It wasn't even that bad, and he knew if it got worse, George would want to get help.

The brunette knew if he died that it would just claw at Clay until he completely tore at the seams.

The days of the week continued to pass by quickly. It was the same routine, every single day.

George woke up at one in the afternoon, while Clay woke up at around 9 in the morning. George was always the sleeper, while the blond was nearly afraid of falling back into that state.

Ever since he began to get those dreams about George, he was scared to go back.

He was scared to get heart broken again.

After George would wake up, his eyes would open to a vacant apartment; Karl would leave to take care of Alex, while Clay would leave to do the unknown.

The brunette was curious to where he would disappear to, but he didn't question it.

Sometimes keeping your curiosity in is for the best.

Once Clay came back around 2 in the afternoon, they would sit on the couch together. Silence would dawn on them, yet it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, but it wasn't quite comfortable either. The silence would just sit there, waiting for someone to break it.

It was usually George who would break the silence. they would have conversations about anything, ranging from video games to dream vacations. Sometimes laughter would erupt, or sometimes their conversations would be as serious as an earthquake. 

There was a particular conversation, though, that grew them closer.

"Of course I have played Minecraft before! Who hasn't?" Clay laughed, his airy, bright, tea kettle wheeze. The shorter of the two had previously asked if he had played Minecraft, if that wasn't obvious.

"I didn't know! I just didn't really take you as Minecraft type of guy. I honestly thought you would have called it lame," George stated as he shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in defense. 

"What is THAT supposed to mean?" Clay asked, curiosity coursing through his veins. 

"I don't know... just that... I don't know, okay? Leave me alone!" The brunette pouted as he dragged out his lower lip for dramatic effect.

"Hey, would you want to put our Minecraft beds together..?" Clay playfully flirted and winked, causing both to erupt into a fit of laughter. It was nice, the two of them laughing together again.

Both didn't know how much they missed it until it actually happened again.

"Oh shut up, Clay!" George shoved the shoulder of the taller boy jokingly. His voice was laced with fondness, almost as if they were falling for each other all over again.

George was falling helplessly into love with Clay, again.

He hated and loved it all at the same time.

The thing with Clay is that... he never fell out of love. The brunette was stuck in his mind in a constant loop.

How could somebody not fall for the perfection which is George?

After that conversation, they started playing Minecraft together. Clay had two computers, so it worked out perfectly. They would play bedwars, standard survival servers, and other things. Teasing would float around in the air as laughs would fly around the room with ease.

It was perfect. They were perfect.

Right?

(943 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY IT'S HERE im so so sorry for the wait:((( I wish I could have gotten it out WAYYY sooner but I just couldn't find a way to lead the story from the last chapter:( I hope this is good enough!

**Author's Note:**

> :) ur lucky I didn't make you guys wait


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